The Pieces of Our Story
by TriniTea
Summary: Just another SkyeWard series ranging from drabbles to one-shots with various AUs and prompts.
1. Car Radio

...

 **Author's Note: I decided to make this a one-shot series, because it will be hard for people to navigate my stories on my profile if I just have a bunch of random one-shot. Plus it's better for people to binge-read if they're all in one place, but I don't see why people would want to binge-red the most 'meh' stories known to man.**

 **I don't know how often I'll be updating this one, probably when I have random idea or when I have writer's block.**

 **Prompts are welcomed.**

...

Grant drives in the summer evening with the windows rolled all the way down. He sighs contently as he lets the jazz music that comes out of his car radio flood his senses. You know, Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, the good stuff, the classics that are unappreciated amongst today's endless pop songs about relationships. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, he glances down at his watch; 6:23, he's making good time.

Kara had invited him to dinner along with some of her other friend. She told him that he should crawl out from under his rock and make some more friends. In his opinion, Grant thinks that he has plenty of friends, but Kara begged to differ. She thinks that he needs more than three friends. Grant was going to protest, saying that its _quality_ not quantity, but he ended agreeing to go.

He continues to drive down the relatively quiet street until he just misses a green light and slows to a stop.

Just as he stops, Grant hears another car roll up in the lane beside him, with some kind of obnoxious, up-beat pop music blasting through the speakers. Is it Drake, One Direction, Justin Bieber? He honestly can't tell and he honestly doesn't care.

He looks over to see a woman with long chestnut hair with the windows of her sky blue Volkswagen Beetle rolled down. She's wearing sunglasses and is singing along to the beat, being totally oblivious to the fact that her pop music is disturbing everyone around her. Over her loud music, he can't make-out any of his, so he turns his up. He barely turns it louder that hers, but she takes notice.

The lady looks at him, slipping off her shades. She gives his a challenging smirk as she turns up her music so it's louder than his.

His jaw clenches as he moves to turn of the volume higher.

Then she makes another move, turning hers up even louder. She gives him a playful shrug, just as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. Now this is getter plain irritating.

Out of the corner of his eye, Grant sees the light change to green. He eases his foot back on the gas pedal, while still turning up the music. Then she turns her up against, then his, than hers, and then he's had enough.

Grant moves into the turning lane to take a detour onto a side street and out of the corner of his eye he can see the smug grin on her face. He wouldn't normally surrender, but that was getting out of hand. He wouldn't like to get in a car accident thank you very much. At least he doesn't have to see her face or listen to her annoying pop music anymore.

...

Walking into the restaurant, he sees Kara standing from her chair, waving to him. He heads over to their table but nearly stops in his tracks when he sees who sitting beside her.

"Oh God no," he mutters under his breath. It's the same woman with the chestnut hair, the Volkswagen Beetle and pop music. He takes a breath and keeps walking, trying his best not to pull out his pone and start playing jazz music at full blast.

Kara smiles and gives him a brief hug. "I'm glad you could make it Grant." She turns to the table. "I'd like you to met Bobbi, Hunter, Trip, his girlfriend Raina and Skye." She says while pointing to the other people seated at the table.

He gives a small wave as he takes the only unoccupied seat, the one beside Skye.

"Nice to see you again pop queen," Grant says, shooting a narrow gaze at her.

"Whoa, have you guys met before?" Trip asks, raising an eyebrow.

Skye crocks her head to the side and shoots that same smug grin from before at Grant. "Yeah, we've met."

He sighs in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Skye and her loud pop music almost got me in a car accident."

The tall blond woman (who Grant thinks is Bobbi) snickers. "That sounds like Skye. So what did she do to you?"

Grant opens his mouth to speak, but Skye cuts him off. "So basically Grant was being an old man, and listening to jazz music in the car. Then couldn't hear his music over mind, so he turned it up, then I turned my pop music up and so on and so forth until he gave up and turned into a side street. Your pouty face was cute by the way." She winks at him, but he takes it as an insult if anything.

Grant snorts. "Yeah, ' _cute_ '. I only gave up because I didn't want to get into a car accident and have that pop music be the last thing I hear when I die."

The group laughs, but Grant vaguely hears Hunter whisper to Bobbi. "I'm sensing some serious vibes between these two. Twenty bucks says that they end up making out at the end of the night." Grant brushes off the comment, yet feels heat rising to his cheeks.

Needless to say, Hunter's ' _sexual chemistry senses'_ were right. They ended up making out in Skye's car to _Shape of You_ by Ed Sheeran after dinner. Normally he's protest the song choice, but he decided to put his mouth to different uses than talking.

...

 **Another Author's Note: So, what did you think of it? Yay or nay? Write me in the comments. I came up with the prompt a little less than a year ago, but I never ended up writing for it, now I'm glad that I did.**

...


	2. Satisfied

...

 **Author's Note: I managed to get Satisfied from** _ **Hamilton**_ **stuck in my head and I've been listening to it on repeat for the last few days. I thought that I** _ **had**_ **to write some kind of SkyeWard AU for it, thus this was born. Plus I wanted to write something to help get over my writer's block for** _ **SkyeWard Mix: Vol. 1.**_

 _ **For people who have listened to Hamilton, I'm sorry that I spoiled the plot of this fic for you 'cause it pretty much follows the plot of the song. And for those who haven't, I hope you're surprised :)**_

 **Enjoy all the Hamilton references and Peggy (no, not Carter, she's not in this. It's a joke).**

...

Grant never thought that he would see the day when his little brother gets married. Today has been a day of smiles and laughter. He can see why this is the best day of many couple's lives. Everything about it was almost surreal, from the music to the cake to the decoration, it was all picture perfect. Grant isn't married and never has been (and at this rate, probably will never be). And even though he's not the groom, he's emotions are deeply embedded into everything that's going on (if you ask him, he'll say that his eyes _didn't_ water during the vows).

He is seated at the main table at the front of the room, by Thomas' side. Grant looks over at the newlywed couple and can't help admire what they have together. Maybe he'd go so far as to say that he _envies_ what they have. They just fit together so perfectly and everyone in the room knows it.

As the best man, he feels that he needs to give a short and sweet speech. He's been playing what he's going to say in his head until he gets the words just perfect. He takes a breath, jumping into the deep end and stands from his seat, while tapping a fork against his champagne glass. The chatter in the room settles down until all eyes are on him.

He takes a breath before speaking, "I just want to give a toast to the groom and my little brother, Thomas." He turns to his brother and smiles. "When we started to grow older, I was starting to worry that my little bro would never settle down and find a nice girl. I remember that you always called me a lady's man and somehow you're married before I am." Thomas chuckles and pats him on the back. "Anyways, now we're here and I couldn't be prouder. Thomas, I love you and I wish you and your new bride all the best." He holds his glass of champagne and looks to the crowd. "To the groom!"

The people hold up the glasses and repeat "To the groom!" at scattered times.

Grant's palms are sweaty and he swallows before continuing. "I also want to give a toast to the bride." He looks further down the table to meet the eyes of Thomas' new wife. "Skye, when I first met you, I thought that you were reckless and snarky, so a perfect match for Thomas." There are a few laughs from the guest. "You are practically the annoying little sister I never had."

"Hey!" shouts a voice from the crowd. Rose stands up from her chair, glaring coldly at her older brother. "Remember me? Your actual sister!"

"Rose, I said ' _annoying sister'_ , you're not as annoying as Skye. You're actually a good sister. Take it as a complement."

Grant turns back to Skye and clears his throat before continuing. "So I was trying to say; that out of every girl in the world, I'm glad that you're here to take care of Thomas. Keep him out of trouble for me. May you always be satisfied. To the bride!" He declares as he raises his glass in the air.

"To the bride!"

Grant sits back down. He swirls his drink in the glass before downing it in one gulp. He couldn't be happier for Thomas, yet there is a voice in the back of his head that tells him that it isn't quite that simple. For years Grant has neglected that voice in his head, but it _had_ to be on the wedding day that the voice screams back at him. Everything that he's been ignoring comes flooding back and he has to be careful not to drown in it.

It all started at a collage party. At that time Grant was a junior, Skye was a sophomore and Thomas was a freshmen. Grant knew Skye though a friend of a friend. They had run into each other a couple times and Grant was close to pulling his hair out every one of those times. But there was something about her. Maybe it was that under her infuriating exterior, she has an open and caring personality or maybe it's the way she held up herself as a person, he doesn't know for sure what it was, but one thing was for certain; he was falling for her, fast.

He approached her and they were chatting without any of the underline competition from their previous conversations. Grant was about to ask her if she wanted to out with him sometime, but then he turned to see Thomas and he had the same look on his face that Grant had on his. Grant instantly knew that Thomas had eyes for Skye, it was written all over his face. He'll never forget the helpless look in Thomas' eyes. Then Grant made a split-second decision that would shape the rest of his life; he introduced Skye to Thomas.

He watched they talk for a while and then left the party. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong anymore. From what he heard from Thomas the next day, he and Skye really hit it off. He was happy for them, and that when when the voice started to nag at him.

And now he's the best man at their wedding.

...

After the dinner and a few speeches from other friends and family, the live music was started up. All eyes were on Skye and Thomas during their first dance as a married couple. There were smiles and laughs exchanged between the two and Grant couldn't help but smile to himself as well. He's glad that everything he's done has lead to this. It makes it all worth it.

As the music dies down, and changes to the next song, Grant walks onto the dance floor and approaches Skye and Thomas.

He lets them have a moment before asking, "May I steal Skye from you for a moment?"

"By all mean," Thomas smiles as he passes Skye's hand over to Grant. He places a hand delicately at her side as she moves her hand to his shoulder.

They start dancing to the soft rhythm. He does his best not to step on her wedding dress, but he can't tear his gaze from Skye to look down. This is what he would imagine his wedding to be like; the music, the dancing, Skye in his arms.

"So how have you been enjoying your big day?" he asks, trying to steer his thoughts in a different direction.

Skye smiles brightly. "It's really has been every girl's dream. I just can't wait to start the next chapter of my life with Thomas."

Grant returns her warm smile. "Well, I can't wait until I get a niece or nephew."

Skye laughs. "Don't think it's usual for a person to encourage his younger brother's sex life."

Grant takes a sharp inhale, but it's small enough to go unnoticed. He lets out a small chuckle trying to brush her comment off.

He twirls her around and her dress sways across the floor. The voice in his head grows louder and louder as the dance goes on. It's screaming at him, telling him that this is what he wants, that this could have been _his_ wedding with Skye, if only he'd made a move of her at that collage party. But Grant's not letting that voice get to him.

But Grant knows his brother like he know his own mind, you will never find anyone more trusting or as kind. If Grant told him that he loves her, Thomas would have silently resigned and Skye would have been his. Thomas would have said he's fine, but he'd be lying.

And if had the chance to go back and change the past so Skye is his wife, he wouldn't. Grant will choose Thomas' happiness over his every time. After their sorry excuse for a childhood, Thomas only deserves the best. And anyways, Skye deserves some like Thomas instead of him. Grant's probably too boring for Skye or they don't have enough in common. While Skye and Thomas are practically perfect for each other and he wouldn't want to take that away.

Yet, somehow it's still Skye's doe eyes that haunt him late at night.

But least Thomas is her husband, at least Grant keeps her eyes in his life.

And yes, he's tried dating other people, some of those relationships even when on to become more than a fling. But none of them ended up clicked for him in the long term. He doesn't know why, maybe he's a bad judge of character, maybe subconsciously he don't want a relationship, ' _maybe it's because none of those women are Skye,'_ the voice says.

The song changes again to something a little more upbeat and their dance slows to a stop. "I guess you have to get back to bride-y stuff now."

Skye nods slightly. "Yeah I guess. There are a lot of pictures to be taken and people to greet. It's going to be a long night, plus I'm wearing heels." She laughs. "Wish me luck."

Grant chuckles as he moves his hands back to his sides, and then tucks them into his pockets. "Good luck."

Skye gives him another small nod before she turns and goes to join Thomas, who is chatting with the other guest. Grant takes a long look at them before turning and walking away, like did during the night of the party. The voice is still buzzing in his head, trying to tell him to do something like drunkenly confess to Skye.

He briefly considered leaving the wedding. The voice becoming harder to control. But leaving would help nothing, actually it would make things worse, it would let the voice fester and infect him. What he needs is to face the music. And he does. He looks back to see them smiling and Thomas' arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Grant smiles, maybe it's a little weak, but it's not all forced. Then the noise in his head, the voice goes silent.

He knows he'll never be satisfied, but it doesn't matter. They're happy and that's what really counts.


	3. I've Had the Time of My Life

...

 **Author's Note: A few weeks ago I watched that Dirty Dancing remake that ABC made and man, what a train wreck that was! The entire time I was watching it, I was wrapped in my quilt, just muttering, 'No, no, no, this is not right' over and over again.**

 **So, since I need to think more good thoughts about the original movie (and to pretend that this reboot never existed), I thought I'd write a little one-shot (and apparently the meaning of 'little' is over four thousand words).**

 **I know this author's note is too long, and I'm abusing my author's note powers, but there are lots of references to the movie here, and if for some reason you haven't watched it, I want you to drop everything and watch it. Please, you'll be happy you did so.**

 **Enjoy!**

...

"No."

"Oh, come on! Please Ward?"

"No way."

"Why do you have to be such a spoil sport?"

"It's because what you're asking is unrealistic!"

"No it isn't!"

"We are not dancers Skye!" Ward crosses his arms to match the stoic expression on his face. "And Coulson asked me to teach you _ballroom_ dancing, not the lift from 'Dirty Dancing'. And what practical use does that move have anyways?"

Sure, he'll admit that it's a cult-classic movie and he enjoyed it more than he'd care to admit, but the choreography is for performers at the professional level. He's strongly believes that neither of them are cut out for challenge. He's not a professional dancer by any stretch of the imagination, and as far as he knows, she isn't a professional dancer either (she lived a van for Christ's sake. Taking dance lesson would be a waste of time and money).

And anyways, why would they even have to re-enact the dance? What purpose would that serve? Unless they're going undercover as leads in a live production of the movie or a remake or something, but that would never happen! Who would remake a classic? If it ain't broke, don't fix it!

"But it's a trust exercise! As you're rookie I need to trust you and for you to trust me. Remember the part about 'You'll hurt me if you don't trust me'? That makes it a trust exercise," Skye states as if she was in front of a courthouse, and while she tries to mimic Ward's expression.

Ward sighs. She isn't going to give up, is she? No means 'no', and apparently Skye doesn't understand that.

"The answer is 'no'," Ward states, punctuating every word.

Skye takes a step into his personal space. "Come on Ward." She runs a hand down his chest as she looks up at him through her lashes. "I know that there's a little Swayze in you. Plus, I think those biceps of yours can lift me, right?"

Just as he feels just a touch of heat seeping up at his cheeks, he mutters a quick, "Fine." before turning away and out of her grasp.

What the hell just happened? Did he just cave into her outrageous demands and all it took was a stroke down his chest and a coy gaze to get him to crumble? He's not going try and explain what happened. One moment he stood firmly on the side of 'Only crazy people attempt the lift without proper training' and in the next moment he was on the side of 'Sure! What will go wrong?'

He's losing it, he's actually losing it. After all of this time, _Skye_ of all people sways him to join her cause (her stupid, _stupid_ cause). And you know what? Garrett would be laughing his ass off if he saw this, _e_ _ven better_.

A smile graces Skye' lips, "Thanks so much! I won't let you down!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Skye leave towards the galley. He didn't have the heart to tell her that they still have training to do (and for once in his life, he didn't feel like training either), but he also has to go watch that one scene over and over again until he has a solid lesson plan. Of course, that might take a while.

'A while' was an understatement.

...

It's early in the morning. The sun had just risen above the horizon and the birds just start to sing. The Bus is stationed for the next few days to refuel and restock supplies. Fitz and Simmons took advantage of their 'day off' of sorts, and are both sleeping in, May had already gotten up to run some errands, while Coulson had to check into the nearest SHIELD facility to update reports.

Usually Ward spends a 'me day' away from the team, usually taking a run, find a park to sit down and read at, maybe even visiting any landmarks or tourist attractions near where they are stationed. But instead, he's spending his day with Skye, trying that lift.

Over the last 24 hours, Ward had tirelessly spent planning how he's supposed to teach Skye the lift; the position of the hands, the momentum required, what he will do it she falls forward, because everything will come crashing down (literally) with a little mistake. Plus, Ward hates filling out injury reports, they just take too long.

Ward knocks on her bunk while calling out, "Skye?"

He hears her roll over in her bed covers. "What do you want Ward?" Skye asks in her half-awake state.

"Well, weren't you the one who wants to learn the lift?"

He hears her pause before calling out a quick, "Okay, give me a second to get ready."

"I'll meet you in the cargo hold in fifteen?"

She calls back, "Okay, I'll try to be quick." before getting out of bed and moving around to get ready.

Ward snickers to himself as he heads to the stairs. ' _I'll try to be quick'_ , yeah, like that ever happens.

...

He throws sandwiches and water bottles in the backpack before zipping it up and opening the trunk.

"Hey Ward." He looks up to see Skye ascending down the stairs. She's dressed in a black tank top and dark blue leggings, with her hair in a long braid. He's sort of surprised that she didn't throw on leg warmers and sweatbands.

"We'll be back mid-afternoon," Ward informs as he closes the trunk of one of the SUVs.

Skye raises an eyebrow while asking, "Wait, are we going somewhere?"

Ward walks around to the front of the vehicle. "Well, we can't just go straight into the lift. We'll need to do a few exercises that we can't do here." As she comes closer, he opens the passenger door for her. "Plus, if we stayed here, I bet Fitz would get 'I've Had the Time of My Life' stuck in his head, and we'd all have to suffer through his singing again for two weeks. So I'd rather just go."

Skye laughs as she slides into the car seat. "Well, the guy really slays at karaoke though," she remarks before Ward closes the door.

In his option, May is the real queen of Disney songs, especially the one-woman romantic duets. But it is a rare occasion when Coulson can get her to rock out to 'I'll Make a Man Out of You."

…

Skye takes a loud breath of fresh air as she steps out of the car and slams the door behind her. She stares right down at a path leaning into the forest. "Really? You charm a girl by talking her to the forest?"

"Well, we have to work on your balance don't we?" Ward asks as he walks around back, grabbing a backpack out of the trunk before locking the car.

He swears that he sees her eyes light up. "Wait, does this mean what I think it means?"

"Yeah, I'm going to make you walk on a log," Ward says as he leads the way down to the path. "Please don't fall."

Ward takes in a deep breath of spring air as they walk further into the thicket of the forest. A small stream comes into sight, bending and turning among the trees. They soon reach a divide between the sides of the stream. There is a fallen tree; it's thick with a deep brown colour, an ash tree he thinks. It has fallen between the rift and connects the two sides.

"Time to work on your balance." He leans his weight against a nearby tree, and then he removes his shoes and slips his sock inside them.

Skye follows his example and she unzips her wedge ankle boots. "Umm, are you sure about this? It looks a little rickety."

"It's fine Skye," Ward ensures. "You're usually the adventurous one, what happened?"

"Well, there is a difference between trying exotic Asian cuisine and tangoing on a probably not secure tree."

"I tried this yesterday night. If it can hold me, it can hold your pixie body."

He steps on, with his arms out, placing one foot in front of the other. Ward turns around and holds out his hand for Skye to grab. With extreme caution she follows his lead and steps into the log. Grabbing both of her hands, he spreads them wide.

Her legs are shaky at first as she tries to find her balance, her arms are out and her eyes are glued to her feet. He takes a few steps back, Skye follows him, slowly and careful, but she does follows him.

Ward lets go of one of her hands and lifts her chin up so her eyes are on him. He takes her hand again and slides it up to his bicep and he moves his hand to her. Skye follows his example and adjust their other arms to match.

"Okay, we're just going to step forward and back," Ward instructions. "Ready?"

"Yeah, okay."

Ward takes a step forward and her foot moves back in response. They soon follow into pattern, back and forth, back and forth. As they grow more confident, their hands float apart from each other. Their eyes are still locked on each other as their hands move to their sides. The perfect rhythm, they way they held each other's gaze, it is like a trance. Well, that was until Skye let out a little squeal as she lost her balance for a split second, her arms shoot out to Ward's shoulders to catch herself.

She laughs as she gets back into the rhythm. "You might be a little bit of a Johnny, but I'm defiantly not Baby."

Ward shares a smile. "Don't worry. It probably took Jennifer Gray and Swayze months to get all the choreography to performance quality. But you are doing well."

"Aww, a complement, that's rather sweet of you."

"Well, that's enough touchy, feely stuff for now, we got training to do."

She slaps his arm playfully, but he makes no reaction of any pain. "And you ruined the moment. We were bonding!"

…

After going back and forth on the log, he decides that they are ready for what comes next. They carefully get off of the makeshift bridge, slip on their shoes and then Ward takes her to another section of the forest; a meadow clearing with tall grass up to their knees.

Ward jumps a few steps back. "Get a running start, and when you're in arm's reach, jump at me and I'll push you up, got it?"

Skye nods in response as she takes a few steps back. She shakes out her hands before taking the running start. As she draw closer, Ward bends his legs and she jumps up into his arms, which takes her not even above his head.

"Sorry," Skye says as he places her down.

Ward takes a few steps back while saying, "It's alright, just go again."

She takes another run at it. Going into it, it's a textbook lift. This time just makes it up, but she falls back to her feet.

"Okay, again." Ward says, jumping a few steps back. "The power's in the legs."

She takes another run at him. Just as Skye is within reach, Ward bends down, grabs her hips and brings her up over his head. He places a foot back in response to her rocking in his grasp. Ward looks up at her just as she begins to fall forward. Ward pulls her into his arms as they fall back.

He rolls onto his back with a grunt as Skye is comfortably held against his chest.

She lets out a small laugh. "Are you okay?" Skye ask as she rolls onto the ground.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Ward replies as she pushes himself up from the ground. "I think that it's best that we head to the lake and try it. The water will hurt less than the dirt." Once he gets to his feet he grabs her hand and pulls her up.

"We're doing the lift in the water? That is one of my favourite scenes!" Skye brushes off the dirt from her pants.

"I did enjoy the training montage, but cross your fingers that the water isn't freezing," Ward says as he picks up their bag of things before heading back in the direction of the car. "We'll have to drive to the lake. It'll take ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

A smirk appears on Skye's face. "Race you there!" she announces as she takes on in a sprint.

Ward snickers. "You're on!" he calls back as he runs to catch up with her.

...

Ward slips off his shirt and tosses it on the dock before slipping into the water from the dock. Once the water settles around him, it's above waist and covers a small portion of his toned stomach.

"Skye, the water's fine," he assures as he swims further, into deeper water.

Skye slips in after him, the water covering just below her chest. She gives a little yelp as she immerses herself in the water. Quickly, she dunks her head under before swimming out to meet him. She stands in front of him and he grips her waist firmly.

"So, we're really doing this?"

"Uh huh," he nods, their eyes meeting again. "Jump when you're ready. I've got you."

Skye takes a breath as she shakes out her hands. She then places her hands on Ward's shoulders for extra support.

"Okay, three...two...one!" Then on command, she jumps and Ward lifts her up above his head. Almost immediately, he feels her weight fall forwards. He tries to adjust his footing keep her up but it is not use and he hear her let out a high pitched shriek before hitting the water. Ward's falls back into the water too and is almost fully submersed.

Ward turns to see Skye remerging from the water and asks, "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's a lot better than tasting dirt." Skye says as she strokes her hair back from her face.

She swims back to his arms, connecting her hands with his shoulder again. Ward reaches down for her waist again, but freezes for a split second when one of his hands brushes against the side of her breast. As far as he can tell it when unnoticed, but on the inside there is still this feeling of panic. When his hands actually meet her waist, he is so close to muttering a sigh of relief.

"This time, really squeeze your core. It's okay if you fall." Skye nods in response.

"On three; one...two...three!" Like last time, she takes a leap upwards and Ward pushes her up above his head. He takes a step back to try and keep her balanced, but as she rocks just slightly side to side, his arms bucket to the point of no recovery. He can't hold her up any more Skye falls between his arms right on top of him, pushing them both down into the water.

As they come up for air, Skye clings onto Ward's shoulders and is pressed against his chest as Ward has his arms around her lower back.

She takes a round of heavy breaths before declaring, "I take it back; you are no Swayze." There is this look of mock-disapproval on her face that makes him snicker.

"When my S.O. taught me to dance, it definitely wasn't graceful," Ward explains as he runs his hand through his hair. "The man thought that dance was an almost useless skill for a specialist, so instead of practicing at the ballet bar, he drilled me on conjugating French verb tenses and how to roll out of moving vehicle. I don't consider myself a great dancer, just enough to get the job done, but that's it."

"One of my ex-foster families took me to ballet lesson, but then they took me out because all I did was hand upside-down on the ballet bar."

There is a moment of silence occupied by the exchange of smiles.

Then Ward asks "Should we try it again?"

She nods before backing up a little bit, putting space between them.

Skye takes a breath before counting, "Three...two...one, up." As Skye takes a leap up, Ward rises in his knees and lifts her up.

She lets out a little grunt as she tries to balance herself with an arched back. She is practically holding her breath as Ward takes a step back to keep her balanced. Ward opens his mouth to say "Come on! You can do this!" but he knows that it will ruin her concentration. He wants to look up to see their success, but know that it will throw him off.

They held it for a solid five seconds before she broke and drives forward into the water below.

Skye laughs as her head pops back up from underneath the water.

"We had it!" She exclaims as she swims into his arms. "We actually did it!"

With heavy breaths Ward says, "Yeah, yeah we did."

She smiles at him, and he can't help but to smile back.

…

After a few more shots at the lift, they sit on the dock, their toes skimming across the water as they munch on sandwiches that Ward made in advance.

"Thanks a lot, for all of this," Skye says just after swallowing a bite of her sandwich. "I know we go the lift, like, once or twice, but it was great."

She sighs contently before adding, "When I was at St. Agnes, the nuns didn't let us watch Dirty Dancing, obviously, because it's called 'Dirty Dancing'. So I ended up watching it while I was at a friend's house and I fell in love. I remember trying to re-enact the dances when the nuns weren't watches." Skye chuckles at the memory before continuing.

"Eleven year old Skye would be freaking out right now. I've always wanted to be in Baby's shoes, have an epic summer romance, and dance my heart out. And this is the closest I've gotten to that, so thanks again."

"No, problem," Ward says as a small smile appears on his lips. "I'll admit that it was better than I thought that it would be."

Skye returns his warm smile before looking back out to the quiet lake. Ward tries to follow her action, but he just can't tear his gaze away from her.

Ward know that he shouldn't stare, that wouldn't be gentleman-like. But the water droplets that rolls again her smooth skin and disappear into her clothing manages to catch her attention. Plus, the way her wet clothes cling to her body leave little to the imagination…No, he shouldn't think about that. Why would he think of that?

Instead Ward places his plastic-wrapped sandwich beside him and he grabs the backpack beside him. Ward grabs a towel and opens it up and then he proceeds to move closer to her and drape the towel over Skye's shoulders.

She looks up at him with her soft brown eyes. "Thanks. And I was right after all, there's a little Swayze in you."

"But didn't you say that I'm not a Swayze?"

She snickers, "Well, you proved yourself, you're a Swayze."

Ward rests a hand in the crook of his neck. "I guess I'll take that as a complement."

"You should, it's the highest honour," Skye remarks as she leans her head against her own shoulder.

Being lured by her smile, Ward's eyes flicker down to her lips. It's not even for a second and he's sure that she doesn't notice it. But seemingly out of nowhere, a coquettish smile appears on her face.

"Dance with me."

Ward blinks. "What?"

Skye places her sandwich beside her and stands up, the towel falling to the ground. She holds out her hand for him. "Dance with me. I thought that was pretty straightforward."

He sighs as a small smile grows in the corners of his lips. "Fine," he gives in as he pushes himself to a stand. "But we'll never speak of this to the team."

"Aww, are you scared that they'll find out that their big, tough specialist likes to dance? That's cute," Skye remarks in a childish tone.

Ward ignores her banter as he takes her soft hand into his rougher and calloused one. His other hand slips down to her waist while her other hand is placed on his shoulder. They step into a rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, similar to the one they were doing on the log bridge. But this time that they are significantly closer to each other.

Ward places his other hand on her waist and then goes to lift her up and spin her around. There is a goofy smile on her face as she lands back on the ground. She leans against his shoulder as she moves both of her hands so they are on top of his.

Her lips are dangerously close to his ear, and he can faintly hear her singing, "Now I've had the time of my life, and I never felt like this before. Yes I swear, it's the truth, and I owe it all to you…"

"Cause I've had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you…" He continues as he moves her away from him to spin her around.

She then spins around into his embrace, with an arm around her and her back against his chest. The rock back and forth in a slow motion, her head leaned back against his shoulder. She reaches up, and runs the back of her hand down his chest. He leans his head down, to his breaths mingle with hers.

She sings, "I've been waiting for so long. Now I've finally found someone to stand by me..."

He should stay something, like how this shouldn't be appropriate for a trainee and S.O., or how Coulson expected them back an hour ago. But he can't force himself to say something. There is something about her touch that is almost addicting. His lack of professionalism is killing him inside, but he's willing to ignore it to feel Skye in his arms.

"We saw the writing on the wall, as we felt this magical fantasy..." Ward finds it a little embarrassing that he knows all the words to the song, but at least he can sing along with her.

"Now with passion in our eyes, there's no way we could disguise it secretly. So we take each other's hand, 'cause we seem to understand the urgency..." The sound of Skye's voice floods his senses and he'd be content from just listening her song.

He catches himself gazing at Skye's lips. But by the time he looks away, she's already spotted it. Skye takes his hand and guides it down the side of her body. His breaths became heavier and he can feel his heart thumping louder in his chest.

In attempts to distract himself he sings, "Just remember; you're the one thing. I can't get enough of. So I'll tell you something..."

Skye cups his cheek, moving it closer towards her. She perks up to her toes, moving closer to him. Her eyes flutter closed as her lips brush against his. Ward hears her sing in a hush tone, "This could be love…" And that is enough to trigger something inside of him.

Ward twirls her around so she's facing him and grabs her hips, pulling him against him so there is no space between them. Without a second thought he crashes their lips together, diving headfirst into a passionate kiss.

There is no hesitation, no second thought.

Ward never knew he wanted this, well, never admitted to himself that he wanted this, but he decides to show, not tell. He reaches his hand to the back of her head, weaving itself into her wet and tangled locks.

Once her tongue slips past his lips, its game over for him, any ounce of restraint he has left slips away as his senses are overloaded. Ward kisses her with the same passion that she kisses him with. Their rhythm slows as air becomes harder to come by. Ward's breaths are shallow as their lips disconnect slowly.

Skye takes a deep breath and her lips grow into a smile. "Hmm, that wasn't half bad."

"Half bad? I thought that you had the time of your life," Ward jokes.

Instead of a laugh, he gets a snicker and a pair of rolled eyes in return. "I never thought that you'd make corny jokes like that! I'm really rubbing off on you aren't I?"

He gives her a quick peck on the lips before replying, "I guess you are."

Skye turns around and wraps herself in his arms, so they are both facing the lake. Ward takes a tranquil breath as he leans his head onto her shoulder.

The sun that once was high in the sky and now drifts closer the tree line. They've been out for about six hours, between the drive and rounds of the actual training, they are both tuckered out. He's almost scared that Skye is just going to fall asleep in his arms (not like he would mind, but he'd prefer lying in a comfy bed with her instead of carrying her to the car).

He lets them bask in the moment (and quite frankly he'd want to stay in this moment forever), but soon asks, "Time to get back to the Bus?"

Skye looks up at him and nods. "Yeah I guess we should head back."

Ward picks up the discarded sandwiches and the towel and throws them into the backpack. He swings the bag around his shoulder and walks side-by-side with Skye.

As they walk on the path back to the car, Skye looks up at him and says with a smile, "Thank you for being my Johnny."

Ward chuckles as he reaches to lace his hand with hers. He brings it up to his lips and kisses it gently and says, "Any time Baby."


	4. Writer's Block

…

 **Author's Note: In honour of my writer's block and current writing slump. I present a quick fic. And I'm so proud of myself 'cause I wrote this in one day! That's the most I've written in two weeks!**

…

Skye stares at the screen of her laptop, her cheek propped on the heel of her hand. A line flashes following her last sentence. Blinking, blinking, blinking, mocking her very existence.

Write, rewrite, write, delete it all.

Her mind is blank like the document in front of her.

Last month was non-stop writing, brilliant idea after brilliant idea. Her words had flowed effortlessly onto the page and with her constant updates she was raking in more views than ever before. It was exciting, but that also set higher expectations for herself.

But now, nothing. Nope. Nada. No, just, no. She must have worn herself out. In the week since her last update she has made no progress on any of her stories. Not a single paragraph, not a single line of dialogue. And she has even more unfinished fanfiction on her USB which gets her down every time she sees it.

There are dozens of people around the world waiting for the latest update of her story. Plus, she left them on a cliffhanger and everyday more people comment demanding more. She has tried to hold them off, replying to their reasonable demands, telling them that she's just in the editing process, but that's just a lie to spare herself a few days. Her story is only half finished and nowhere near editing.

Skye groans, sinking deeper into her seat. She rubs her temple with her other hand. This is hopeless, absolutely and utterly hopeless. Her muse is dead! Gone for good!

She has tried everything; going on walks, listening to music, reading, listening to podcasts, but none of those have worked for her! It's like her brain decided to go on an all-expenses-paid vacation and didn't come back. She's found herself praying to the Writing God, asking for her mojo back.

Closing her eyes, she listens to the hum of her computer (and her boyfriend listening to Hamilton a little too loud in the next room). She lets out a loud sigh, curling up in her seat.

"Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless," she mutters to herself as she bangs her head against the desk. Why does she even try? Why doesn't she pay people to write her idea for her? That would be a little less stressful than writing all of her dumb ideas herself.

She hears heavy footsteps behind her, accompanied by the hum of the chorus of 'Wait for it'.

"Skye, stop hurting yourself." She looks up to meet the eyes of her boyfriend, Ward, who brings her a cup of coffee in an extra-large mug. He places it on a coaster beside her and kisses her temple.

Skye places her arms on top of each other on the table and buries her head in her arms. "It's just hopeless. I've been here all week and I haven't written a word."

Ward crouches down, stroking her hair tenderly and cups her cheek. Moving her head to face him, he gives her a small smile.

"What part are you on?" Ward asks, taking a glance at the few words on the laptop. "If it's a sex scene we can _do_ _it_ so you can write from experience." At the sight of his smug grin, she hides her head back into her arms, trying to ignore the blush growing at her cheeks.

"No, I'm writing Asami teaching their daughter how to play Pai-Sho."

"Then, let's make a baby and teach her how to play Pai-Sho."

"No Ward," Skye grown. "Fanfiction first, banging later!"

Ward wraps his arms around her shoulder and whispers. "You don't have to write like you're running out of time. Writing fanfiction is a hobby, it's supposed to be fun. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"You don't understand. There are people waiting for updates, I can't let them down," she protest with a grunt at the end.

"They can wait another week, baby. You are not their servant. Even award-winning authors get writer's block." Ward leans closer to her so he's right against her. "Don't be so down on yourself. Take a break. We can watch Netflix for an hour. I'll even let you eat that crap food you insist on buying-"

Skye interrupts, "Licorice is not crap food!"

He chuckles, "Okay, I'll let you eat sweets until your heart's content if you take a break for an hour, please."

Skye pauses for a moment. She then nods, "Okay, but I get to choose what we watch."

"Okay, deal. Now get up." As Skye straighten up, Ward brushes a lock of hair out of her face to reveal her chocolate brown eyes.

Skye declares, "We're watching Ouran High School Host Club." while smiling. It must have been a week since she's smiled, it felt good.

Ward raises an eyebrow. "The one about the hot and slightly creepy anime guys? If it gets you up, then fine."

Skye's smile grows even brighter as she closes the lid of her laptop and gets up. She throws herself into Ward's arms and says, "You get the snacks and I'll start the show. Thanks a lot Ward."

Ward looks down at her, and moves a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. "Anytime Skye," he replies before leaning down, to seal their lips with a tender kiss.

…

 **Another Author's Note: I was listening to 'Wait for it' from Hamilton while listening to this, and I want to you to drop everything and listen to it. I don't care if you don't like Hamilton, I don't care if it's out of context, is a powerful, underrated song. I get chills every time I listen to it.**

 **Future prompts are always accepted!**

...


	5. Kiss the Cook

...

 **Author's Note: Niiicccckkkk, I'm so sorry this took so long! I just wanted this to be perfect, but it's probably not perfect 'cause you always point out my dumb typos.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

…

Ward blinks awake at the sound of shuffling outside of the bedroom walls. He stops for a moment to stare up at the ceiling and listen to the mumbling which emanates from the kitchen or living room.

The first thing that comes to his mind is that there is an intruder in the apartment. But when he rolls over to alert Skye, his eyes instead meet with an empty space and ruffled up sheets. It's probably just Skye doing another midnight raid of the fridge. It isn't the first time she's done it, especially lately.

To be on the safe side (the side that he'd always prefers to be on), Ward moves the covers off of his body and softly steps onto the hardwood floors.

Not bothering to put on a t-shirt or sweatpants, he makes his way around the bed and to the door, which is already open by just a smidgen. He takes a silent breath before opening the door just wide enough to slip through.

Once he's fully into the hallway, he can see a dim glow pouring from the kitchen and into the living room. As he approaches, he can see that it illuminates from open fridge, with Skye bent over muttering to herself as she digs through the assortment of food.

Silent as a fox, Ward walks over to an unknowing Skye. When he is almost directly behind her he watches her for a moment, still oblivious to what's behind her.

Ward tilts his head to the side, staring at his wife who her head all the way inside the refrigerator. "Skye, what are you doing?"

She screeches, hitting her head against the frame of the fridge. She backs away and looks towards Ward. "What the hell Grant? You scared the shit out of me!"

Ward crosses his arms, "Well, I was wondering what you were doing at one a.m. raiding the fridge."

"I'm having pregnancy craving and I was looking of for watermelon and _someone_ ate all the damn watermelon!" Skye hisses.

He should have remembered that she's been craving watermelon lately, oops.

Ward presses his lips together and mutters, "Yeah sorry. I can go out to the store and get some if you want."

"Don't bother, it's alright," Skye mumbles as she shuts the fridge door. It's subtle, but he sees a slight pout on her lips still.

Ward places his hands on her hips, feeling the slight curve of her baby bump. "Then is there anything I can get for you? Draw you a hot bubble bath or get you something sweet?"

Ward watches as she pauses to consider her options. He'll practically do anything to make her and their baby happy; if she wants him to make a nest of pillows, Ward would do it in a heartbeat, if she wanted a foot massage, consider it done, if she wants to stuff her face with chocolate he won't judge! He'll just remind her to brush her teeth afterwards.

"Can you make your Gramsy's brownies with the strawberry sauce, please?" Skye asks sweetly.

"Okay, but it's going to take a while, but it's doable. Is there anything else you want?"

Suddenly, the corners of Skye's lips curl upwards like the Cheshire Cat. "I want you to wear the apron."

Oh yes, their extensive collection of aprons is something to marvel at.

Early into their relationship when Skye found out that he liked to cook, she bought him dozen or so aprons with odd and non-sense phrases like ' _In dog beers I've only had one', 'Last time I cooked I hardly got anyone sick'_ and _'Born to shop, forced to cook'_ (he still doesn't know what 'discount apron warehouse' Skye got them from).

"Which apron? You bought me enough aprons to last several lifetimes."

" _The apron._ " He didn't think that her smirk could grow wider or become more evil, but she has a knack for proving him wrong.

He rolls his eyes, of course, _the apron_. "Why _that apron_?" Ward should be concerned that he know what she means by ' _the apron_ ' "Why not that 'Kiss the Cook' apron?"

"As much as I like to kiss the cook, that one isn't as fun." Skye gazes at him though her lashes at him. "Please, you said 'anything'? You're not going to deny your pregnant wife, are you?"

Ward sighs, he know that this is a fight that he has no chance of winning. "Okay, fine. You can put some on TV or something and I'll get the freaken' apron."

"Thanks babe." Skye rises to her toes, briefly kissing his lips to contrast against his sour expression

...

Ward sighs before reemerging back into the living space of their apartment, dawning an apron that reads, 'May I suggest the sausage?' with an arrow pointing down—well, down towards _there_.

Skye looks up from the TV with the classic Skye grin. "Hey handsome," she purrs with a wink.

Ward closes his eyes as he takes a long exhale, "Just, no."

Skye tilts her head to the side. "Aw, are you embarrassed Robot?"

Ward looks back at her and protests, "It's just that this apron is stupid and it's just—just no."

"Well, I think you and your sausage look real fine in that apron," Skye says seductively.

He definitely feels heat rise to his cheeks now. "Skye, the extra doses hormones are getting to you. Go back to watching your show and I'll make you some brownies, okay?"

"Are you sure that you don't want me to help you or anything?"

He takes a few strides towards the couch and drops a kiss on her forehead. "No, you just relax, I've got it covered."

Skye tucks her legs up against her chest and brings her blanket further up her chest. "Sounds good to me."

Ward chuckles before walking back to the kitchen.

He flips on the light switch and squats down to the level of the lower cabinets. Then he opens the cabinet full of cook books and miscellaneous recipes that he has accumulated over the year. He reaches for a black binder that's labelled as 'Gramsy's Recipes' on the spine.

When she had passed away a couple of years ago, Grant didn't plan on taking any of her belongings, but two things were written in her will for him; her engagement ring (and the one that Skye now wears on her finger) and her recipes that she made herself over the years.

Ward then had taken the liberty to sort them into categories and then alphabetically and put them in sheet protectors in order to keep then organised in one binder.

He flips through several pages marked with colourful pages flags until finding the page titled 'Frosted Brownies with Strawberry sauce'.

Ward stands to his full height and places the open book onto the counter.

"Okay, ' _preheat the oven to three hundred, fifty degrees',_ " he mutters to himself as he leans over to the oven controls.

...

Ward scrapes the edges of the spatula on the brim of the bowl. Then he pulls a bowl of cleaned strawberries in front of him and begins to cut off the stems.

As he cuts and chops, he hears footsteps creaking behind him, but before he could look up, Skye wraps her arms around him with her body pressed against his back.

"Whatcha doin'?" She chimes as she rests her head on his shoulder.

"I'm making the frosting and the strawberry sauce for the brownies while they're in the oven."

Skye ducks past her husband and dips a finger into the chocolate sauce and licks it off her finger.

"When will they be done?"

"Uhh," Ward glances over at the oven and replies, "The brownies will be done in fifteen minutes. Can you hold out until then?"

"Okay," Skye smiles, her squeezing Ward's torso. "If you're not going to let me help, can I at least watch? I love watching you cook, well bake in this case."

"Of course, but don't steal anymore icing, I need it for the brownies."

Just as Ward finishes his sentence, Skye dunks another finger into the bowl of chocolaty goodness.

"No promises," she smirks before sticking her finger in her mouth.

"You are so predictable babe."

Skye laughs, "I guess I am."

Ward continues to chop up the strawberries as Skye hums some jazzy pop song that's unrecognizable to him. Then he places the cut strawberries into a small metal pot.

Glancing down at the cookbook, he skims for the next instruction.

Ward turns his head to look at his wife. "Skye, can you let go for a second? I need to get the sugar."

"No," she refuses, burying her face back into his shoulder blade.

Ward waddles back, Skye still clinging onto him tightly. He shuffles to the other side of the kitchen and grabs a ceramic jar of sugar and proceeds to waddle back to where the stove is. He measures out one third of a cup and dumps it on top.

"I'm going to get the vanilla okay?" he asks, interrupting Skye's humming turned light singing.

Skye nods before following his lead and waddling back and forth in the kitchen.

As much as Skye's hug (that is more of a standing cuddle at this point) is an inconvenience to his cooking, Ward feels at ease with her touch. It is almost like he's in an entirely different world; with the simmer starting to come from the pot, Skye sings lightly singing some romantic song in his ear (he swears he know it from somewhere, one of the shows she watches, Steven Universe maybe?) and the curve of her baby bump pressing against his back, it just feels too surreal to him, too much like a fantasy. He's almost excepting to wake up from this dream, but no, this isn't some virtual reality.

Even though domestic life was never quite his style, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

...

Ward places the plate in front of Skye, which holds two brownies on it, with the strawberry sauce drizzled upon the chocolate icing and a small fresh strawberry on top.

He briefly presses a kiss into her hair before grabbing his identical plate from the counter and placing it on front of his seat.

Next he goes to grab a set of wine glasses and a bottle of Coke-Cola that had been chilling in the fridge. Ward heads back to the table and places a glass next to each plate and fills them with the fizzy soda.

"Bon appétit mon chéri!" Ward speaks, the French accents rolling beautifully off of his tongue.

"Oui, oui!" Skye exclaims.

Ward snickers as he pulls out a chair for himself and takes a seat across from Skye. "Your French needs a little work Hon, you don't just say 'oui, oui' to everything."

Skye licks her lips as she cuts off a bite sized and puts the morsel of dessert inside her mouth.

"Mmmm," she reacts the second the brownie touches her tongue, "Grant this is delicious!"

"Well, you can never go wrong with one of Gramsy's recipes," Ward replies before taking a bite of his own brownie.

"So does this satisfy your craving?"

"Yes, yes it does," Skye exclaims with a mouth full of chocolate and strawberries.

Just as she goes for about fork full, she pauses and looks down at her stomach. "Grant come here, quick, I think that the baby is kicking."

Ward props his fork on the plate and hurries beside his wife.

"Here, the baby's still kicking." Skye takes Ward's hand in hers and places it on the side of her bump.

He waits for a moment, silent and still, yet he feels no difference.

"I don't feel—" he's cut off as the slight jolt of his hand. "Anything." When he feels it again he's almost too afraid to breathe. The movement is subtle, almost nothing, but he feels overwhelmed with emotion from just that tiny kick.

He looks up at Skye, who bears the same idiot grin on her face as he does.

"Wow," is all the words he can produce.

Skye chuckles, "I know, pretty amazing huh?"

"Yes it is." Ward leans down to press a kiss against Skye's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too Grant."

 **...**

 **Author's Note: My French teacher would be so proud that I didn't use a translator for that French sentence! I used a French to English dictionary instead! Actually, if you put 'Good appetite my sweetheart' into Google translate, it actually translate into '** **Bon appétit mon** **cœur' or 'Good appetite my heart.'**

 **So thanks for the prompts Nick, I swear I will try and write your other ones, and if anyone else has prompts, I'd be more than willing to try and write it, but it might take a while. Sorry about that again!**

 **P.S. I totally imagined Skye singing/humming 'Love Like You' from Steven Universe. I was listening to that on repeat while I write this. That is my ultimate domestic SkyeWard song.**

 **...**


	6. Dads Against Daughters Dating

**...**

 **Author's Note: So I got an anon request an embarrassingly long time ago to write this "As Coulson is kinda Skye's dad - I beg of you, write a thing where he asks Coulson's permission to date Skye and Coulson does some dad thing like cleaning his guns. PLEASE! I think such things are hilarious, and it would be so cute to see Ward all fidgety and nervous about making a good impression as a potential boyfriend." And though it took me three months, after secretly writing during class, I am finally done!**

 **So enjoying! And if anyone wants to make requests, comment, or send it to my inbox trinitea-fics on Tumblr! Though I can't guarantee I will write it in a timely manner.**

 **Also Happy Valentine's Day.**

 **…**

In all of the years that Ward has known Phil Coulson he has learn two important facts about the man; one, he is the biggest Captain America fan you will ever meet, and two, he identifies as a 'DADD', better known as 'Dads against daughters dating'.

He distinctly remembers the first time he witnessed Coulson's DADD-ing at work. It was during his second year at the Academy, Skye was in the year behind him and Coulson was a guest instructor for one of his ops courses. There was this kid, Lincoln, he was nice guy, smart, attractive, also inhuman and had a thing for Skye. When he tried asking her out, and out of nowhere Coulson burst into the room and demanded to talk to Lincoln. Ward isn't totally sure what went down, probably something that involved threatening the poor boy with Coulson's level seven status. No matter how that talk went it's irrelevant now, because he hasn't seen Lincoln since and isn't even sure is he stayed with the Academy. Skye was upset but got over it, apparently this has been happening since she was in high school, maybe even early than that.

So when Ward finally realized he's desperately in love with Coulson's daughter, he know he had to prepare for Hell.

He's not exactly the guy to actively seek out romantic relationships, at least not before and with his job settling down in the suburbs wasn't the first thing that crossed his mind while getting trying not to get shot . . . So why did he have to fall for Coulson's daughter? Coulson only daughter to make matters even worse?

He needs a plan to prove himself as 'boyfriend material' to try and survive, which is good because he likes precise plans for fragile ops (especially when those plans go as planned). Then as he really thought about it, the more it got to his head that there are so many ways that this could go horribly.

He needs back up (and possibly an extraction team if things go as horribly as he sees it playing out in his head)

…

"It's simple really," Hunter explains, a hand on his hip, the other vaguely gesturing in Ward's direction. "Wait until Coulson's captured or something, save his life and when he says _"If there's any way I can repay you"_ ask him for permission to go on a date with Skye. Easy! Also Skye will be so amazed that you saved her father that you'll probably be in for a treat." Hunter's eyebrows moving suggestively.

Ward leans against the holatable, already fed up with the other man's nonsense, "And that's supposed to help how?" Ward deadpans.

"You're getting exactly what you want; Coulson's approval and Skye in your pants," he states if it were apparent.

"Shut up Hunter," Ward hisses. "You think I'm waiting for Coulson to get kidnapped? Is that how you scored your _'She -Devil ex-wife'_? Why are you even giving the advice, you're divorced and have been in an on-and-off-again relationship with your ex-wife that you wouldn't shut up about how much you hated when you first got here." Maybe that's a little too much, his teammate's personal life and choices aren't his to judge, but he's been sick of this little pep talk Hunter has been giving him since he opened his mouth. Plus this is doing nothing to help all the anxiety of confronting Coulson, if anything it's making it worse.

"Bobbi and I are on good terms now thank-you-very-much, so if you're playing the long game, you will want to listen to my advice," Hunter responds defensively.

Ward rolls his eyes and turns to the people he actually sought out.

"FitzSimmons, a little help here?"

"Well he is on the right track, sort of," Jemma speaks as she pushes herself out of her chair. "You have to earn Coulson's favour and the easiest ways it to do the odd job for him; grab him coffee, get on that agent he's been meaning to—"

"Impress him with Captain America knowledge," Fitz chimes it, still focused tinkering with miscellaneous scraps at his workstation.

"Yes, Cap knowledge, stuff that you know he likes, or is hard and you'd be giving him a much need break. Then after, just ask him permission to ask Skye on a date. You've buttered him up by then and you will successfully survive the DADD," Simmons explains, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Ward pauses, that seems so . . . simple, that is honestly the first thing he thought of and the first thing he dismissed. It's simplicity is undoubtedly appealing, but it also means that it could go so wrong in so many ways, but it's not like he has another option. Well, Hunter's kidnapping idea seems like an decent possibility now.

Ward sighs as he stops his racing thoughts and decided on a course of action, "I'll try. Wish me luck, I'll need it."

…

Ward takes a deep breath as he stares at the door with a frosted glass window reading _"Director P. Coulson"_ in bold, black letters. The only way to Skye's heart is through this door. He's disabled bomb, he's shot targets from two blocks away, he can impress Phil Coulson . . . right? He shakes his wrists, trying to loosen the tension building up which was becoming the only thing he could focus on.

 _He can do this._

 _He is Agent Grant Douglas Ward, one of SHIELD's greatest specialist and a man of great control and confidence._

 _He can do this._

He rasps his fist against the door, to be responded with "Come in" a few seconds later. Taking one final gulp of air before opening the door just enough to slip through.

"Sir," he greets, cool, calm and collected, just stay like this and he'll be fine.

"Agent Ward," Coulson looks up from his paperwork and towards him and Ward prays that Coulson doesn't see him stiffen when their eyes meet. "What can I do for you?"

"I was actually wondering what I could do for you," his voice as steady as he could force it to be. He can already feel his palms become sweaty. God he doesn't think he's endured worse torture. "I'm currently off duty and I was wondering if I could head a hand, if you need one."

He can point out every word that was off in that sentence that just came out of his mouth; every split second of hesitation, every flux in his tone and all he can hope for is that Coulson can't see right through the mask that he's trying so desperately to hide behind.

Coulson pauses, looking around his desk momentary. "If you really wanted to, I could scrap you up a few things to do, I know how you hate being unproductive."

"I would appreciate that very much sir," Ward replies, taking a step towards Coulon's desk. The opening to this dance is done, just have to survive the rest of the act.

 _He is Agent Grant Douglas Ward, one of SHIELD's greatest specialist and a man of great control and confidence._

 _He can do this._

…

Ward carefully picks up Coulson's signed Captain America picture with one hand and carefully spays the glass and wipes it with the other. He's finally gotten his hands to stop shaking, which thank the lord he was able to manage. If he were to drop any of Coulson's collectibles, he'd be probably kissing his statue as a free man goodbye.

Maybe Skye will visit him at the prison that Coulson would ship him off to, or the desert base with no human beings for miles.

He's already been here for a half an hour and he's spoken about twenty words? He's probably has done nothing to make a good impression on Coulson and this silence is awkward as Hell which is doing nothing to help. He needs to at least say something, even though he knows that he'll be on edge the entire time his mouth is open.

What advice did FitzSimmons give, what advice did they give . . .

Oh! Captain America facts that's it!

And before he really thinks the words, "You know, Steve Rogers was born in Brooklyn," come out of his mouth.

Utter regret and shame washes over him as the words register in his ears.

He just—just freaking . . . God he told the biggest Cap fan something you would find at the top of a Wikipedia page! Dammit . . . Dammit he messed up!

He tries to keep a straight face and somehow stop the red colour from shading his cheeks. Coulson glaces up from his paperwork and Ward's toes are fidgeting in his shoe, trying to conceal the fact that he is mortified, his anxiety is at new highs and he can hear his heart pounding in his chest .

"I know."

He's Agent Grant Ward, he does he best under pressure. "I just thought that is was kind of cool, that Captain America is from around here," Ward quickly adds, reaching at all straws that could possibly save his skin.

"Yeah, that's why he's called Captain America."

Yeah of course! Great job Agent Ward!

Why does he have to be so bad at this?

Ward turns back to the shelf, takes the microfiber cloth and wipes down the shelf. All while trying to mask the fact that he's sweating from the pure agony this is bring to him.

Knowing these Cap facts were supposed to be his trump card! How is he supposed to impress Coulson now? But really, why did he even think that would impress him. The guy probably write half of those Captain America fanpages online, what fact could impress him?

"Ward are you alright? You seem a little tense, which isn't very good for a specialist," Coulson inquires and Ward wishes that base went into lockdown or that aliens suddenly attacked, anything to get him out of his conversations.

He waits, prays for a moment, but unlike all of the other inconveniently timed disasters one doesn't come when he needs it most. Go figure.

Ward turns toward him, though never making direct eye contact with Coulson, being too afraid to do so.

"I didn't get much sleep last night, that's all."

Coulson nods back before and Ward turns back to the the shelves, realizing the breath that he didn't know he was holding. He has never been so thankful that he's a top tier liar. Ward takes a moment to collect himself before continuing to dust the objects in front of him.

Why did he have to fall for Skye?

…

When Ward finishes alphabetizing Coulson's bookcase and binders, he laces his fingers together and stretches them above his head. He's been at the director's office for three hours and he hasn't even had a successful conversation that lasted more than a minute with the man. He'll just have to keep on going at it.

"Anything else sir?" he offers, as much as it pains him to do so.

Coulson gazes up to the other man and shrugs. "I can't think of anything and I think you've done more than enough." His eyes meets Ward's and he can feel his heart skip a beat. "I don't see why you're here, especially a man of your age. You should have better things to do instead of staying at the office with me."

Ward forces out a laugh. "You know me, I have nothing really better to do—"

Three knocks sound against the door, interrupting him. Both of their heads snap towards the noise.

"It's open," Coulson calls.

The door quietly squeezes open to become very bad movie cliche; Skye standing at the door, the light shining on her back and a breeze-coming from seemingly nowhere-blowing her hair from off of her shoulders. Ward can't tell he's imagining or not, but either way he's absolutely screwed.

"Hey dad." Skye steps into the room, bearing two coffee cups and closes the door behind her with the swing of her hip. "Hey Ward, am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, Ward just is helping me out with some cleaning and stuff."

"If I knew that you were here, I would have brought you coffee too," She walks past Ward to place the tall disposable cut in front of her father's paperwork.

"It's alright Skye." Just saying her name nearly makes him smile.

"Oh right, aren't you all _"I can't have caffeine, my body is a temple"_ or some crap like that?" Skye mocks with the slight roll of her eyes and a smirk.

Ward snickers. "Yeah, some crap like that."

"I'm picking you up for dinner correct?" Coulson questions Skye.

"Yep, as far as I know," She smiles, glancing back and forth between Ward and Coulson.

"Well, I actually better get going, or Agent Hand is going to be on my ass."

She leans over Coulson's desk, giving the older man a peck on the forehead. "Bye dad." She turns to Ward and takes him by surprise by kissing him too on the forehead. Even as just a brush of her lips he feels the skin beneath burning. "Bye Ward."

She leaves the same way she came, basically confirming the fact that Ward is hallucinating about her goddess-like presence (but in his mind she still is).

(He also hopes he's not drooling)

(He checks, thankfully he was dreaming about that too)

After the door closes Coulson asks, "You two aren't a couple, are you?" with a serious tone on his tongue.

Ward unsuccessfully swallows the lump in his throat, fakes a laugh and stammers. "Of course not, why would you think of that sir?" God, Coulson probably saw right through that! What is he doing?!

"The kiss on the forehead," Coulson clarifies, "But it's probably just Skye being Skye."

"Yeah, probably just that." There's a beat, an awkward pause where Ward can feel the tension in the room rushing through his bones.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he blurts out, an offers which he immediately regrets.

"Umm, yeah, I can probably find you something to do."

Ward wishes from nothing more than to hurl himself out of one of the windows. Good God, the things he does for love.

…

He can't feel his fingers anymore.

Ward offered to clean Coulson's guns, still attempting to win the man's affections. Big mistake on his part, because do you know how many guns this man owns? Ward stopped counting after twenty, the amount of ways Coulson could kill him started going to his head.

He knows if he makes a wrong move it's game over. He knows that Coulson knows all of his guns inside out and he will notice a mis-assembled or piece bent out of its place. Some of the guns Coulson doesn't even use, they are instead vintage collectibles that Ward has to be just that more careful clearing, knowing that his SHIELD salary will not cover the cost of most of these antiques. Ward would honestly rather be disarming a bomb.

More than ever he's praying that Coulson will approve, not just because he wants to be with Skye, but also because it would hate himself if all of these hours of work went to waste.

…

He finishes putting all of Coulson's gun back into place, just like how he found them. Coulson still sits at his desk, long done his paperwork (Ward's almost positive he's scrolling through Captain America related posts on Twitter and has been for the last hour or so).

"Sir, I'm done," Ward speaks up.

Coulson looks away from his desktop screen and flashes a smile at the other man. "Thank you, and before you ask, I don't have anything else for you to do; my office practically looks like new."

Ward opens his mouth to speak, about to ask Coulson for permission to date his daughter, he's finally facing the DADD!

Then a split second of second guessing strikes.

He doesn't have a chance with her, huh? Why would he?

If Coulson says "no" he'll never get a second chance, never in a million years. Oh man, this has to be one of his biggest idiot moves.

When it dawns upon him that he's probably been standing and staring at Coulson for a good thirty seconds, he mutters a quick, "Have a good night sir," before turning to his escape.

God, he's a moron.

He'd ready to get the hell out of there and hopefully push this experience to the far reaches of his conscious, but upon hearing the words, _"Ward, isn't there something else you wanted to ask me?"_ pass through Coulson's lips, he is paralyzed where he stands.

He feels a heavy feeling setting into his stomach, and a lump forming in this throat, but being unable to deal with it, he turns around. "Excuse me, sir?"

Coulson pauses, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "As good of a specialist you are, I can still tell you're only here to say . . . get me to like you so you can date my daughter, huh?"

Ward can feel the mortified expression being plastered on his face. Not knowing what to do he stammers, "No—no sir."

Coulson chuckles, "You are making yourself more obvious, it is very, very clear that you are in love with Skye. Your lying could use some work, we might have to rethink your title of "Best Since Romanoff"." Coulson smiles, contrasting the look of pure panic painted on Ward's face.

"So you're not . . . mad?" Ward asks hesitantly.

"Of course not, why would I be? You're a good agent, a good man. You really didn't have to go through all of this trouble to get me to approve of you because I already do," Coulson explains as he leans back into his chair.

Ward's eyes light up. "So you're-so you're okay with it if I ask Skye out to dinner or something?"

"Of course, actually, if you're up for it I can cancel my plans with her tonight and send you in my place. I think you'll have a good time, Skye is really looking forward to going to this new restaurant, it took me forever to get reservations," he offers.

"Sir, you really don't have—"

"I insist," Coulson interrupts, "After all the hard work you did today."

A smiles forms on Ward's lips. "Thank you sir," he replies.

Coulson takes his cellphone into his hands, "I'll call her to tell her that you will be her date tonight, and that she'll meet you at the east wing exit at about seven, does that sound good?"

"Um—yes, yes it would. Once again, thank you so much sir. I better get ready for tonight then." Ward holds Coulson's gaze for another second before turning to the door.

"Have a nice night. And Ward . . ."

He turns back to the SHIELD Director just as he opens the door.

"Thanks for cleaning up the place and as much as I know you wouldn't hurt Skye, you are aware that I could ship you off to a cold, dark base in Antarctica with only penguins to keep you company and all I have to do is sign a paper, are we clear?" Coulson's eyes narrow down on Ward, but this time he's not the slightest bit afraid (well, sort of, at least less afraid compared to early).

Sure of himself, Ward nods, "Loud and clear sir." Ward steps into the hallway and lets out a deep breath, while leaning his head back and running his hands down his face.

He should be mad for doing all that work for nothing, usually he is, but he is too tired to think too hard it and he's just relieved that he didn't absolutely screw up. Ward knows that he's gonna spend the next week trying to push the most anxiety inducing five hours of his life to the furthest corners of his mind. At least he now has a date with Skye.

 _A date with Skye._

Dammit. Now he has to get all worried about that.

But in hindsight it shouldn't there is little chance of it going absolutely terribly, he's already faced the DADD and that's more than half the battle.


	7. Ice Dancing and Dating Conspiracies

**…**

 **Author's Note: I honestly don't know what this is. I kind of just started writing. This could be set in my Oh Canada!Verse you can take it that way, but I don't really want to go back to that AU, so just have this, whatever this is.**

 **…**

"Hey I'm—"

"SHUSH!" Skye barks. Ward freezes gripping the doorknob as the sound of tender piano music and voices (narrators? Reporters? Commentators?) fill the room. He opens his mouth to ask what's going on, but he stops himself, knowing that speaking will only get him into trouble. Ward slowly closes the door, unzips his jacket and gently hangs it on the hooks attached to the wall, being conscious to not disturb whatever Skye's doing that requires silence.

Ward slips off his shoes and heads toward the living room, where Skye sits cross-legged, with her laptop resting on her thighs and the light of the TV reflecting off of her wide-eyed gaze. Ward eyes narrow on the screen as he approaches his girlfriend.

"Figure skating?" he whispers as he leans against the sofa arm.

"Team figure skating, ice dance free program," Skye explains, still focused on the pair of skaters turning and spinning around each other in perfect rhythm.

Ward comments, "I didn't know you liked figure skating."

Skye shrugs, "I don't really, it's pretty to look at, but I don't know much beyond what I just looked up on Wikipedia."

"Then why are you watching this?" Ward asks as he sides into the seat beside her.

"Well, I've seen this particular skate all over the internet, the internet adores this team and NBC is playing the highlights of the competition so I had to tune in," Skye replies as she reaches for the remote on the coffee table in order to turn up the volume.

Ward turns his attention back to the TV, now the woman is standing with her skate blades on her partner's thighs while bending backwards. Good God how do people do this? He glances up at the scoring in the top left corner, the score for the American team a few points ahead of the Canadian one.

"It's nice that the American's are leading, this skate is elegant," he remarks.

Skye snaps her head toward Ward, a look reading 'you're kidding me?' plastered on her face. "Oh no, America is not going to be ahead for long, this is Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, _the Canadian team_ ," Skye corrects, with a proud tone as if it were her own country.

"The Canadian team?" Ward inquiries, taken aback by her words. "I thought you were a proud Team USA supporter through and through." Ward distinctly remembers during the last Olympics, they were out with friends at a bar and by the end of the night Skye was chanting "USA! USA! USA!" at the top of her lungs and got the rest of the bar patrons to join in. It was one of her proudest moments (though, he is pretty sure that she was too drunk to remember).

"Yeah, under normal circumstances I'd be all for the States going for the gold, but no one will beat the queen and king of ice dance." She turns back to the TV, in total awe of the performance. "I mean look at them! They have unparalleled chemistry and they are so in sync it's like they can read each other's minds, it's crazy. And I know, no, _the world knows_ that they are secretly dating or something. They keep on saying their 'just friends' and their relationship is 'platonic' but I can see through their lies."

Ward thinks for a moment before saying, "You know skating is a performance, it's characters and acting, maybe they're playing up the romance for show and have like a brother-sister kind of connection."

Skye throws her head back and lets out a loud snort, "Um, I don't think siblings look at each other like that, unless it's Game of Thrones, but that's gross."

Skye turns around her laptop so Ward can see the screen. She says, "Look at this and tell me that they aren't secretly in love or something! Some of their programs are so hot that I swear they're gonna melt the ice." and clicks through photos and gifs of the pair nearly kissing during their routine, sharing a seemingly intimate moment or lifts and footwork patterns that how much they trust each other, how in sync they are with each other.

"I even heard that they had to change parts their routine because one of their lifts was too 'provocative' for the Olympics!" Skye laughs, "I hope that siblings don't have that kind of UST."

"And you're sure that they aren't dating?" he clarifies.

"Well, as far as we know," Skye says as she spins her laptop back toward her. "Over the years they've been telling people over and over again that they aren't together, but I bet that they've been together this whole time and he'll, like, propose to her on ice when they finish their program or propose on the podium, I can't tell which I would want more."

"Skye, if they go on record multiple times might I say that they aren't dating, I think you have to take their word for it. And don't you think it's kind of weird to, what is it . . . _ship_ people in real life?"

Skye bites her lower lip, "Err, well, usually I don't like shipping celebrities that aren't together, but I mean how can I not with Tessa and Scott?" Skye exclaims,

"Plus, I have a theory that they are secretly dating, but that's because there will be all of this pressure on them if the world knows that they're together that could ruin their skate. If they got into a fight or if rumors are spread by tabloids that could break the trust they have in each other and ruin the perfect clockwork they have right now. Though, this is said to be their last Olympics, so with all of that pressure off of their backs, they can finally tell the world that they are indeed in love with each other and are now expecting little ice dancing babies in like, nine months from now," Skye explain, with just about as much passion in her voice as the way Virtue and Moir are skating.

Ward lets out on amused smirk, but decided not to comment on the probability of her theory being true (and rightfully so, Skye is very passionate about this kind of stuff, it's best not to challenge her thoughts).

They direct their attention back to the TV as Scott spins Tessa in his arms, hugging her close to his chest. He clenches his hands into a fist, expressing his pure victorious joy and dips Tessa to the final beat of the music.

Skye jumps out of her seat, cheer and clapping louder than the audience at the arena. "Woah! That's how it's done! It's too good, too goddamn perfect!"

Ward lets out a light chuckle at her reaction, "And when did you become a fan of Virtue and Moir?"

Skye falls back into the couch, "This morning," Skye answers, like it's nothing.

Ward snickers, shaking his head. _Of course_.

"What?" Skye asks defensively.

"Oh, it's just that in the time I left and have come back from work, you are knee deep into this new obsession."

"It's not an obess—okay maybe it's a little bit of an obsession but they deserve all of the love for a reason!" Skye exclaims.

Ward wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls toward him in order to kiss the top of her head. "Whatever you say darling."

"You know, in another life I think we'd make a good ice dance team," Skye says as she leans her head against Ward's shoulder. "Maybe we'd be in a relationship that we'd have to hid from our fans."

Ward cracks a small smile, "Debatable, I don't know how much I would like you swinging your skates around my face, and trying to wake you up for early morning practices would be a pain."

"Yeah, that would suck if I poked out your eye and ruined your perfect face 'cause you'd have to get an eye patch," Skye admits, "And I would have a hard time keeping a secret relationship, because I love you too much." Skye glaces up to meet his gaze.

"I love you too."

 **…**

 **Author's Note: There is no reason this exist other than the fact that I do love Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir and I have for a long time, and like I do every four years, I have fallen down this rabbit hole (I don't like shipping celebrities that aren't dating, but come on, how can I not ship this?). The skate I was referring to was their "Moulin Rouge" program from this season which is absolutely amazing, I've watched it sooo many times at this point and this was my honest excuse to watch it some more.**

 **...**


End file.
